Mass Effect - The Battle for the Future
by Mystic-Fleet
Summary: With the Reapers destroyed what's next for Shepard? Story begins after the destroy ending. With a few tweaks to fit the story of Shepard's life after surviving the destruction of the Crucible. Story rated M for language, themes, and violence of course
1. Chapter 1

Hello all, it's been quite a while since I last tried writing any fanfics. Please give me an idea of how I'm doing, with reviews and comments. Also let's dispense with the basics, Mass Effect is owned by Bioware and EA, not me. I only claim ownership over custom characters.

* * *

From the depths of darkness, the spark of life flickered. Consciousness sluggishly building to the point of awareness. A sharp breath the first sign of movement in the previously lifeless body. It began with sight, limited as it was as only the left eye quivered open to reveal an emerald pool within a blood-red pool. Giving an already dark and dreary world a crimson wash. The surrounding terrain was nothing more than destruction; sparks leapt from cables snaking from broken walls, beams criss-cross over head, dust rose from the ground in bursts as the skeletal remains of some massive structure. And the crimson world next gained sound as the flashing electricity chirped and falling earth, both refined and natural, shattered the silence. Questions arose before anymore senses renewed.

'Where am I? What's going on?'  
The sounds grew louder. Were they getting closer or just the second sense returning to normal? The electrical discharges, followed by a heavy thud. IN such a weakened state and without yet recovering the ability of motion it would be near impossible to discern the noise's point of origin. However there wasn't enough time to worry about the sounds as the next and by far worst of the senses returned, touch. And with it a surge of pain which forced all thought and other physical abilities to near dormancy. Questions of identity and situation were of no importance. Only what and why. What is this hellish pain and why am I suffering so much? Even the screams of agony were lost within pain.

* * *

Not far off a team of soldiers; a human, a krogan, an asari, and a turian; were searching for the wreckage. The human male was commanding the group, scanning the grounds with his omnitool. The turian wielding a strange device with a rotating energy blade for cutting through metallic walls. While krogan used brute strength and asari utilized biotics to move the rubble. The team gathered as quickly as they could to search the grounds. Their goal to seek out the one living soul that was last confirmed alive within the remains of the station. They swore if they couldn't locate the galactic savior alive they would at least find the body. This time around the Commander would be there for a true hero's funeral. They were loosing hope but still refused to give in. An hour had already passed since they entered the remains of the section of the Crucible that made landfall on earth.  
"The signal is growing faint again," the human called out to her team.  
"How could that be," called out the turian after sawing through another large wall. "Your scanner must be faulty. You better not loose the signal a third time."  
"Would you two shut up," the asari fiercely chimed in. Focusing her biotics to move the smaller debris while the krogan lifted or pushed the larger items."Stop arguing and get back to work."  
"Your scanner said this way, so," it was the krogans turn to speak up. Partially to diffuse the rising tension. "If we keep moving we've got to find something."  
Just then they heard a sound that nearly froze them all in their tracks, the screams of someone in unbelievable pain. In unison they turned toward the sound and called out, "IT'S SHEPARD!"

* * *

For what seemed like hours, the nerve shattering pain was the only proof of Shepard's continued existence. Though now it seemed as though the pain was fading away. And being replaced by memories. Memories of a military family, a line which could, possibly, end here and now. At least he'd set his legacy, also the name Shepard would be legend, right? A courageous Alliance commander, one who survived not one, but two battles with a thresher maw and a run in with the mother of all maws. Then went on to become the first human SPECTRE. Who survived numerous suicide missions and even returned from the dead. And with the inter-species crew of the Normandy went on to prove the Rachni weren't just monster, forge peace between organics and synthetics, and united the galaxy to defeat the apocalyptic Reapers' once and for all. But there were things no one would know, the betrayals and loss and love; all of which molded Shepard in the end.  
The screams died in a hoarse choking cough, and once more the Commander lay motionless, struggling to continue breathing. Suddenly there was movement a wall collapsed and four figures stepped through the dust cloud. Shepard watched as they approached, slowly at first but then quickly closer. The rescue party froze in their tracks, staring down in shock and horror at the reason they charged in the to crumbling wreckage. Shepard was alive, but not in one piece.

* * *

The next day he awoke again, to an all too familiar room. A room of white with bright lights. Breathing a sigh, the Commander craned his head to the side. The usual white curtain offered a bit of privacy. Slowing his breath, he watched the shadows behind the thin veil. Memories of the last time he awoke to a medical room flooded his mind. Then he had to fight his way out, but back then there was also an alarm blaring. This time he'd awoke of his own will. His right hand slide from his side, to the edge of the bed. Grabbing hold of the controls, his fingers strummed the buttons. Feeling the braille grooves along the controls, he found the button to raise the back of his bed. Whoever occupied the room, it was unclear if they were friend or foe. Rolling over, Shepard swung his legs around and over the edge of the bed. His vision blurred for a moment, he could feel he wasn't fully recovered but if this turned out to be anything like his last hospital stay, he couldn't waste time. Hands lowered to his sides, as he made to rise from the bed. But even the simplest plans can fail as he would learn. As instead of rising he found himself off balance and hitting the cold sterile floor with a heavy thud.  
The sound caught the attention of the doctors in the room. The curtain quickly flew aside and a female figure moved to kneel beside him. Her hands moving to inspect the man on the ground. She was dressed in an Alliance medical officers uniform. The gray haired woman carefully lifted Shepard to sit against the corner of the bed. All the while calling over her shoulder to the other doctors.  
"Dr. Michel, bring over a mild sedative," the doctor called to the others. "Shepard, try to calm yourself. Everything is fine. You're in an Alliance facility."  
"Karin?"  
"Glad to see your memory is still all there," Dr Chakwas replied as she started to check the bandages that wrapped completely around her friends rib cage. Carefully observing Shepard as his gaze moved from her to his left side. The surprise in his eyes as he noticed the missing limb, tore at her. Once she was sure he hadn't reopened his wounds, she moved to help him up. "I'm sorry Shepard, there was nothing we could do about your arm. But you're alive. Now let's get you back into bed.  
"Commander Shepard," came the voice of third doctor. Another human, he stood just under six foot with bright red hair. A dangerous look in his eyes as he stared at the pair. Reaching into his coat he drew the M-3 Predator he'd kept hidden. "In memory of the Illusive Man."  
"Karin," Shepard used his shoulder to push Dr. Chakwas out of danger. His hand then raised toward the disguised agent of Cerberus. The shot echoed through the room and out into the halls.  
From the hall, Dr. Michel heard the gunfire and rushed back to the room. Seeing the assassin through the door she feared for the two in the room. Drawing the syringe she rushed in and stuck the man in the back, before he could react. While not enough to stop the killer, the fast acting drug would slow his movements. Stepping back she watched the man reach back and pull out the needle. He turned stumbling a little as he faced her. Raising his firearm he prepared to fire. The chance never came as he was struck from behind with a bedpan. The Cerberus agent dropped to his knees, stunned further. Leaving him defenseless for the two. A couple more swings of the bedpan and another two injections and left put him down for the count.  
"Shepard?" Dr Michel looked to her colleague, ready to jump to action. But Chakwas stopped her placing a hand one her shoulder. With a shake of her head, Karin stood helping her to her feet. Behind her Shepard lay on his back across the hospital bed.


	2. Chapter 2

** Thanks to those that have reach and commented on the first chapter. I'll be attempting to update once a week. Please continue to comment, PM, review even. Let me know what you think, if I have anything out of content go ahead and let me know. If edits are needed I'm more than happy to learn and grow. **

* * *

Gunfire echoed throughout the docking bay. There was a gaping hole in the wall where a shuttle performed it's suicide run, but the bay itself was safe. A mass effect field surrounded the portal out to the cold emptiness of space, protecting those inside. Shuttles had already passed through, packed to capacity with Cerberus soldiers vowing revenge for their fallen leader. And more were on the way, weaving haphazardly through the remains of the galactic fleet to assault this particular station at the edge of the SOL system. Only a day before the Normandy had docked within this station after a week-long MIA status.  
The Normandy, much like it's captain, was a symbol for all the races. A symbol of peace that could be obtained through cooperation and coexistence. It was something Cerberus, now under new management, couldn't allow to exist. Whatever the cost, they needed to destroy it. And thus the available crafts that could be gathered directed to assault the station.  
Using the same technology as the Normandy itself, Cerberus sent in a large transport ship under stealth. The ship managed to pass the few remaining Alliance sensors, the transport released a series of shuttles. The first created an opening. Sending out an SOS as it flew pass Neptune and off into deep space. Meanwhile the rest awaited in the planets shadow. Upon the appearance of rescue ships, the first craft detonated. This gathered enough attention, and the Cerberus teams moved to shadow Saturn.  
It was then the Normandy appeared, nonchalantly coasting up to the Sakharov station orbiting Uranus. The warship whose captain killed their leader. But their shuttles were too weak to take on such an agile and powerful vessel. So they waited, as their prey docked. Then waited a bit more, the crew would be scattering in their tasks. And finally after an hour wait, attacked.

* * *

At first it was believed the Cerberus agents would be quickly repelled. But it wasn't so. These were Cerberus enhanced troops. Altered through mimicked Reaper technology. Faster and hardier than even the most well-trained Alliance officer. They swiftly disposed of the advanced security units, and only a hallway stood between them and their target. But the troops protecting the Normandy hunkered down at the end of the hall and halted Cerberus' advance.  
Major Mark Lerrow was one of the Alliance troops defending the frigate. He was only half-dressed, wearing a pair of slacks and boots. Brandishing an M-90 Indra, he darted behind a bullet ridden container. Peering through his thermal scope he established friend and foe from positioning. he jammed the barrel of his rifle through the one side of the container and fired off two three round burst. The muzzle flash hidden within the crate, his shots passed through the container and out the other side. His target struck by four of the six rounds. Three were enough to deplete his kinetic barrier and the last ricocheted off the chest piece and up into the shock trippers skull, from under the helmet.  
"Oh yeah," Mark cheered himself. His left hand raising to communicate with the rest of his team. "How ya like me now?" Leaving the rifle where it was he fell back, sprinting to a more stategic position.  
"You really need to stop watching those old vids," replied a guttural voice over Mark's earpiece. It came from one of his companions. A turian clad in violet heavy armor. Who, at the time, was awaiting the human behind cover. Passing over an AR when Mark slid into cover.  
"Says the turian whose seen 'Fleet and Flotilla' eight times," Mark rebuked his partner as he peeked out from cover with a quick squeeze of the trigger. Providing cover fire while the turian rose sporting an M-3 Predator and an M-358 Talon. The human smirked as they both dropped back into cover. "And how many times was that while actually on a date, Taurell?"  
"Refresh my memory, Major," the brute of a turian questioned. "Just how are you cooking that varen chow you call cornpop." Bullets chirped and thudded against the container the pair was hiding behind. A few rounds managed the pass through the metal crate, but none close enough to hit either soldier.  
"We're all quite aware of your sad social lives," came another voice over their earpieces. A soft voice with a harsh tone. Dropping down from above, the asari commando joined the two behind cover. "Why don't we focus on the fact Cerberus has us pinned down and their target is right behind us?"  
The violet skinned asari called to light that the defenders' were pushed back into the docking bay. Mark looked over at the frigate, it seemed the ship was an open target. The trio exchanged a glance. Taurell nodded, holstering his pistols, he pulled a pair of timed mines and set them against the side of the container. At the same time Mark took the chance to lean forward brushing his hand along the asari's rear as he reached for a flash grenade from her belt.  
"Excuse me, Akeila," Mark impishly smirked as he set the charge. Akeila glared at him a moment. Her violet skin shimmering blue as her biotics gathered strength. Mark smiled loading a thermal clip into his Mattock.  
Left hand then rose to his communicator once more. "In position, Riot D7 in five." Both males shifted to their knees, and sprang into full sprint to either direction. Drawing the attention of the Cerberus agents, just before Akeila wrapped the container in a mass effect field. With a thrust of her arms, the heavy metal container launched forward, tumbling toward the docking bay entrance. Half way into the roll the explosives Taurell set detonated, destroying the crate before it had a chance to reach the hall. The rations within the scattered, adding to the confusion. This gave Mark the opportunity to roll the flash bang past the archway.  
The less than lethal explosive was unexpected, managing to stun or blind most within it's range. Allowing the defenders to take position and fire on the corridor from three angles. A moment later the trio pulled back to cover. Granting a reprieve to the failing attackers. The shock troopers were beginning to shake off the effects of the grenade. Raising their weapons they started to file into the room. Taking positions as they fired wildly about the room. Their goal to force back the defenders, who seemed to do just that. It was then just as one troopers lined up a rocket launcher, he was hit from behind. Falling forward the launcher fired into the ground below. The resulting explosion scattered the remaining troopers, the platform shook violently throwing most outside the blast radius from their feet.  
"That's the last of them," a gravelly female voice called over the communicators. Stepping from the halls, the thin frame of a female drell dressed in light stealth armor. The grey armor partially covered by a hooded jacket. In one hand an M-5 Phalanx and the other a her onmiblade though unlike most others, her's blade was a split down the center. Holstering her pistol, she'd pull back her hood. Long, smooth strides brought her to stand by Akeila. Mark smiling ear to ear joined the pair along with Taurell. "The area is secured, Major," the drell reported.  
"You don't have to call me major, Mireelah," Mark smiled handing his AR over to Taurell. Turning to Mireelah, his smile widen a bit. "Still thank you for your quick work. How are the defenses?"  
"I've set proximity alarms throughout the halls. Akeila and Taurell should take point at the doors," Those dark eyes held soft blue irises, and similar to her turian teammate her skin tone was a golden bronze. Her fringes faded in a warm amber with black tips. "And while they do that we should check on the wounded." She returned his smile, before turning to look toward the Normandy. "I'll get the medical teams from the Normandy to assist."


	3. Chapter 3

** Here it is the next chapter, I feel a bit unhappy with the chapter to be honest. I mean I am happy but something kind of feels off, ya know. If you figure it out let me know. One more thank you to those who have chosen to follow my story, and the few of you who have PMed me. I'll look into those ideas. Thanks for reading. **

* * *

In the time after the battle, the remaining teams of defenders gathered the wounded and non-combatants at the gangway. The  
stronger of the soldiers and mercenaries moved containers and other objects to offer protection should there be another assault. At the  
time Mireelah was standing atop the Normandy's hull. Deep pools of obsidian scouring the surrounding terrain. She attempted to  
gain access to the frigate, but was denied. A computerized voice informed her that airlock would not open until the away crew returned.  
She was also instructed on a few items the drell wasn't aware of. The first being that the crew would arrive in approximately twenty  
minutes, however that was be at least eight minutes after another wave of enemies. And finally the approaching Cerberus squad was  
equipped with mechs.  
This information prompted Mark to relinquish command of his team momentarily to the Alliance Marines. All except for himself and  
Mireela. He instructed her to take the high ground with his remaining clips and his Indra. Mark chose to sit just outside the frigate's  
airlock. Poised in a posture of contemplation and meditation, one he'd learned working alongside his drell companion these last few  
years. Reviewing all memory of the station, from the last two days. A difficult task considering the constant interruptions of a  
computerized voice.  
"A human using Drell meditation," the voice called out to him from the Normandy airlock, "I have observed Shepard attempting to  
master the skill but his ability to block out others is quite limited."  
"Quite interesting miss," Mark replied, folding his lands over his chest. Fingers curling to mimic a symbol of concentration.  
"My name is Edi, and it would seem you lack the same concentration necessary achieve clarity."  
"Actually Edi, I have a rare skill among humans," he stated matter-of-factly. "It's called an eidetic memory. Also known as..."  
"A photographic memory," Edi interrupted. "Which allows you, like the drell, to review your memories with prefect clarity."  
"There is another," A faint smiled curled his lips, "Thanks to Miri, I've become able to split my concentration in two while reviewing my  
past." Indeed Mark had done just that during the conversation. But with his concentration divided; his review of the station design  
was slower than if her were fully concentrating. "I have a favor to ask of you Edi. If what you said is true, and Cerberus troops are on  
their way here, then I need to ask you to allow me to load the civilians into the safety of the Normandy."  
"I'm sorry, Major Lerrow," the computerized voice changed slightly. She sounded conflicted, as if she would have prefered to open the  
airlock on request. " But unless the commanding officer grants me the authority, I am unable to allow unauthorized access." Mark  
noticed the use of his name and former rank. He was part of the Alliance once, however since his discharge Mark turned to becoming a  
mercenary.  
"I haven't been part of the Alliance forces for some time, Edi." Breaking his posture, Mark stood slowly. Staring at the airlock, a smile  
curled his lips. "Don't suppose I could get a favor for the guy who found Shepard alive in London." The door buzzed its response at him.  
He nodded turning around to walk along the gangway. "Thanks anyway, but I hope you'll be sure t break protocol just one if shit hits the  
fan, as they say."  
"This room isn't equipped with fans."  
"Thanks for the information, Edi." His right hand raised to wave toward the ship, then dropped to cover his ear. "Miri, Akeila, Taurell  
any movement?" Reaching the end of the gangway, Mark slipped into a black chest piece gathered from one of the fallen soldiers. He'd  
open his omnitool holo screen, synchronizing an Archon visor to his comm.  
"Nothing from the halls," came the turian's response.  
"Thermals are clean," Mireela added.  
"Nothing at the..." Akeila froze mid comment, scanning the walls of the docks. Her eyes widen a moment as she stared down the  
scope of her AR. "Hold on, I've got movement in the service tunnels." Holding an optical scanner to her right eye, the asari fingered the dial. Adjusting the settings to better capture the movement she'd spotted. "Mark, at 4 o'clock two meters up. I recommend the 'Special Delivery.'"  
"I'm on it, Blue," Mark responded as he grabbed an M-300 Claymore and an M-8 Avenger. Quick stepping up to the wall,he slung the AR over his shoulder and loaded a thermal clip into the shotgun. His eyes looking over the metallic surface of the wall. Raising the shotgun to this shoulder, he moved his sight from right to left. "Taurell, found a weak spot?" The taurian adjusted the display over his eyes to detect deformities in the wall. Drawing his twin extended barrel M-3 predators. Carefully firing off ten shots from each, to which Mark ducked for cover as every other shot ricocheted off the wall. Once the shots ended, Mark looked at the wall, spotting the wide grouping he calculated the center. Then slammed the barrel of his shotgun against the wall. His kinetic barrier at full power as he pulled the trigger. The thin wall, partially damaged already, caved in from the blast, the shotgun barrel blew out. Forced back from the blast, Mark smiled seeing a disc fly past him. The disc was an inferno grenade, lobbed in a high arc by Mireela atop the Normandy.  
Hitting the ground almost flat on his back, Mark rolled over his shoulder. His feet hitting the ground just as the arced explosive went off. He stumbled back, before turning to run to cover. The wall behind him buckled slightly from the explosive. Behind the wall a team of Rampart mechs were reduced to half strength. The bipedal repurposed security robots, her forced to adapt to their loss in numbers. Two moved forward, firing without aim from their assault rifles. The purpose for this to distract the alliance troops allowing them to pass the hole in the wall. Only one made it past as snipers had turned their attention toward the explosion. Their rounds shredding through the second robot's torso when it attempted to pass the hole.  
The robots were pinned down within the wall, slowing their progress. However much as they were an asset, the mechs were also useful distraction for Cerberus troops. Hearing the fire fight withing the docking bay, Cerberus commandos moved in. Concealed in Ajax armor, the commandos charged into the room. Their kinetic barriers deflecting bullets long enough that they could return fire. Most of the commandos only made it a few steps past the doorway, before their barriers fell to the shower of gunfire. But there was enough return fire to force the Alliance troops to consider their strategy.  
Before the defenders could reform their ranks, Cerberus made their next move. The side wall, which held back Rampart mechs, rumbles and burst out, sending a shower of shrapnel out into the docking bay. And more meches were stepping out to fire on the momentarily stunned soldiers. The defending forces were now being pinned down from two directions.  
"We're pretty much fucked here, Mark," Taurell commented as he cleared the clips from his pistols. Setting one on his lap, the turian flinched only slightly as rounds bounced and thumped against their cover. "Shit," he exclaimed, his tri-taloned right hand fishing an empty pouch at his hip. "I'm out of clips."  
"Now's not the time to fuck around," Mark yelled down at the turian as he emptied a clip from his AR. Dropping to a knee behind cover, the human canted his head to the side. His left hand reaching to a pouch at his back. Which he found was also empty. "You have got to be shitting me. I'm out!"  
With the civilians taking up the majority of available cover the defending forces of Alliance and mercenary soldiers, were taking heavy damage. Mark found himself trapped with Taurell and two mercenaries; who were about to wet themselves. By this point Mark had tuned his communicator so he would only hear his companions. The constant chatter from the thirty other defenders was too distracting. Then came a sound he didn't want to hear. The scream of a drell female. Raising his gaze to the Normandy he could barely make out the woman with the snake-like fringe curled up on the wing of the frigate. Reaching to his turian partner, he grabbed the last of his frag grenades, as well as his own inferno. Popping the safeties, he lunged from cover. Taurell shouted his disapproval, knowing full well it wouldn't stop the human. Rolling onto his knees he offered as much cover fire as one clip could offer.  
Mark counted three steps and lobbed his frag toward the commandos, then his last two inferno at the black mechs. The commandos took to cover, which was to be expected. The mechs however continued their advance even as the explosives dispersed their forward squad. But Mark kept running for the frigate. His kinetic shield flickered, deflecting rounds. Once he reached the railing, Mark lept with all the strength he could muster. Another round bounced off his shield, however this one managed to penetrate, clipping his side just above the hip. Adrenaline pushed him on, held back the pain. Rolling along the tip of the wing, Mark showed his true athletic abilities. Bounding back to his feet and into a sprint. A few more steps and he'd lunge to cover Mireela. Using his own body and what remained of his shield to protect her. After a moment he could still hear the fire fight but his shields were untouched.  
"Stay down, and keep still," he ordered the drell before daring to lift his head. His eyes widen when he noticed the wing flap lifted, protecting him and his companion. "What the fuck?"  
"Your request is acknowledged," came a voice over all the communicators. A male voice and well known. "Oh, and back up has arrived."  
"Shepard?" Mark was stunned.  
"I thought we left him one Earth for treatment," Taurell shouted over the comm.  
The Cerberus commandos suddenly found themselves in the middle of a cross fire as members of the Normandy's crew charged from their rear. It didn't take long for the tide of battle to change. Not only were the commandos surrounded but someone had restarted the stations security systems. As for the mechs, a combat drone exited the Normandy just as the airlocks opened. Flying a beeline toward the Rampart and spraying the robots with powerful electrical charges. From the hole in the wall charge a muscular human, a turian in dark blue armor and an asari dressed in white. The trio made quick work of the mechs.  
The new combined forces cleaned up within a minute. And once the battle was done, two figures stepped out of the air lock. The first a quarian in purple and black bearing a shotgun, behind her a human male, the same man Mark and his team saved on earth. Now it seemed he was returning the favor.


End file.
